Mica
by 20 Toes
Summary: Darrow and Calwyn are living happily in the black palace after saving Tremaris and awaiting the birth of their eldest child (also their first daughter.) When she is born they are filled with joy and love. The only problem... She can't talk. One-Shot.


**Mica**

**You will have to excuse me, it's been a while since I've read the books, so I'm sorry if I get a few facts wrong, but I decided to do a one-shot about Calwyn's and Darrow's daughter. I hope you like it. Please review and tell me what you think. And I also wanted to say thank you to my awesome beta Fluffy Bunnies Are So Cute. Thanks!**

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A lone scream pierced the night. It wasn't joined in chorus like it should have been. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

Darrow glanced at the door, fidgeting with anxiety. Halassa was inside, with the doctor and Calwyn. The scream was Calwyn's, but he wasn't worried for her; that was normal during birthing. What worried him was the silence. There should have been a second scream, belonging to his child. That was what worried him.

A few moments later, he was allowed inside the room. He stood beside Calwyn's bed and looked down into her arms. She was holding a little bundle, its mouth open in a scream, but no sound came out. He looked at Halassa in confusion.

Was there something wrong? All children were supposed to cry. If they could cry, then they could speak. If they could speak, then they could sing. If his daughter couldn't sing, what would become of her?

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Mica looked down at her bare feet and sighed. She hated being inside the castle, she felt trapped, confined, and bored. The earth spoke to her like nobody else; she could talk back to the earth in her own special way. But now… Now,** s**he couldn't even feel the earth.

Her mother and father were both busy with the new child. They were teaching him to sing. It wasn't her fault that she couldn't sing. Her mother, Calwyn, had even decided not to send her to Antaris until she was older. She desperately wanted to go, but she couldn't sing**,** and Antaris was mostly for singers.

Calwyn never told her, but Mica knew her mother knew that the people of Antaris would expect Mica to have extraordinary talents like Calwyn, and they would think of Mica as nothing when they found out that she couldn't talk, much less sing. Just the thought of that made Mica's blood boil.

What she wanted most in the world was to be a chanter like her parents and brother, yet she couldn't even talk. Mica knew that the reason that her parents wanted to wait before they sent her to Antaris was because they held onto a thread of hope that someday, her voice would come, and they could teach her to sing. But Mica was realistic, and she knew that she would never speak.

Her mother used to tell her stories at night before she went to sleep. They were about all different things. All of her mother's adventures, Samis, Antaris, the tenth power, the saving of Tremaris, and even stories about the Black Palace. All of them. She loved the stories. But now, her parents were too busy to tell her the stories, so she had to find other ways to be entertained.

She felt like a failure. She couldn't talk like everyone else, she couldn't sing like everyone else— and until Uncle Halassa had finally taught her how to mind speak, she couldn't even communicate with other people. She knew that her parents loved her, but they were disappointed. They wanted a daughter who could sing like Calwyn. Not a daughter who couldn't sing at all.

Sometimes, she felt like they loved her little brother more, because he could sing. He could sing beautifully too. He could create things with his singing. It was amazing. They loved listening to him sing, where she didn't have a single talent that they could be proud of.

After years of begging, her father had finally taught her the tenth power, the power of signs, even though he obviously thought it was useless since she couldn't sing the notes. After learning the basics, she had begun to mix the notes together, creating new songs just like her brother. It was her little secret. Even her uncle Halassa (who she was closest to) didn't know about it. She would practice her silent songs where nobody could see her, so no-one could make fun of her for not singing. Only the earth knew about these songs, since she would sing them to the earth. That was where she was going now.

She glanced around the dry, sandy clearing for any signs of chanters. She saw none. Mica practically floated over to where she had hidden all of her songs. She brushed the sand of the box of papers and selected her newest and most complex song to sing today. It covered every note of every range. She laid the paper on the ground in front of her, and started to talk to the earth, as a warm up before the dance.

The earth was proud of her dancing songs, and that was all that mattered. The earth told her how happy it was that she was dancing for it, to keep it healthy and beautiful. She said that she was happy that she could help the earth. The earth said that it liked Mica's dances a lot better than the original ones that her mother had pieced together. She blushed. She thought her mother was the best at everything. To find out that the earth liked her dances better was kind of exciting. The earth told her that the song she was going to dance today was its favorite out of all the ones she had created.

Mica never told her parents about her singing dances, because she knew that they wouldn't be very proud. They had always favored singing over dancing. She knew that the power of becoming was a dance, but whenever her mother spoke of it, Mica didn't see the relation between the power of becoming and her dances. Her dances were just dances, that's all.

She could feel the ground pulsing with power beneath her feet. Her toes itched to tap the ground with the very beginning notes. She raised her arms above her head and lifted her face to the sun in order to let the power of the earth flow through her. She started off tapping the ground lightly with her foot and ice appeared out of thin air. The tapping became faster, until she was whirling around in a wild dance.

Creating things, changing things; all the different notes blended together in a wonderful dance. She got lost in the silent song. She felt the tingling of power in her feet, just like her mother described. She felt like she was singing, but she knew that she wasn't. To be a chanter, you had to sing. That's what everyone told her.

She didn't even notice the shadow of her father**,** until the very end of the dance. When she caught a glance of him out of the corner of her eye, she stumbled and fell on her face. He helped her up and she spit out the sand from her mouth.

"What were you doing Mica?" Darrow asked. He had seen the whole dance, and he was awed. He didn't know that his daughter had such a talent.

She dropped her gaze to the now grassy ground.

_I was trying to chant._ She used her mind speak. She was ashamed that her father had seen her. Now, he would for sure banish her from doing that. He probably thought that she was being stupid, trying to sing-dance like that.

"Look at me," he said. She brought her gaze up to see her father smiling. Why was he smiling? He wasn't supposed to smile; he was supposed to be angry. This confused Mica.

"You were trying to chant?" he asked. She nodded sadly.

"Can you sing this?" He sang a low note, making a rock leap into the air. She felt the ground's power flow through her and without thinking, she dug her heel into the earth, not enough to hurt the earth, just enough to create the same bass as her father. Another rock leaped into the air, just as her father's rock had.

"Mica, do you believe that you are a chanter?" her father asked. She shook her head.

_Chanters have to sing__, _she told him.

Darrow shook his head. "No they don't. Not you. You are a chanter, just like your mother. You can sing everything, just like her, but with your feet. And you have the power of becoming! Those dances were the power of becoming!" Mica stared at him.

She was a chanter! She had always dreamed of being a chanter. Now that she thought about it, she supposed that it was true. She could do the same things as normal chanters, like create ice, and fire, and move rocks. Just with her feet, not her voice. But she didn't think that what she was doing was the same as what the actual dances of becoming were like. She smiled at her father. He smiled back and hugged her.

_I didn't think that that was the same type of dance as the power of becoming and the dances that the people in Antaris do. _Mica looked up at her father.

"But it is! I watched them! You were healing the earth just like them! Come with me. Calwyn will be proud of you. We can take you to meet the Spiridrelleel and they can teach you more dances**;** you are a chanter!" So that's what the earth had been talking about when it said that she healed it with her dancing. Darrow clasped his hand on Mica's shoulder as they walked back to the palace.

"What is it?" Calwyn asked as she stepped out of Mica's brother's room. Darrow looked excited.

"Come with me. Mica wants to show you something." He led her outside where Mica was waiting. Mica was suddenly nervous. She didn't know whether her mother would be proud of her of not. Her father was definitely proud. She could see the excitement in his face as he practically dragged her mother out to see her dance. Calwyn stood waiting as Mica took a steadying breath.

"Go on, sing for your mother**,**" Darrow urged.

Mica started dancing. She danced an easier dance this time. She whirled around the area smoothly and gracefully, flowers sprouting all around her**,** and she danced with a new joy that she had never felt before. At the end of her dance she looked around and saw all of her family was clapping for her. Her mother, father, uncle, and brother all crowded around her kissing her head and laughing.

"Before he learned to speak, Uncle Halassa could dance just like you. I can't believe we haven't thought to teach you the power of becoming before, but you learned it all by yourself. Now, he and the Spiridrelleen can teach you more of the power of becoming and you can be a chanter with us! And I can show you all the chantments that have been written down already and you can practice them." Her mother smiled down at her.

Mica felt her face split into a huge smile. She was finally a chanter! She had a talent! And her parents were proud of her! This was the best day ever.

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**I hope you all liked it. Thanks for reading.**


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